


The Bracelet

by blondeofthecentury (orphan_account)



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: I don't really know - Freeform, You can decide, although if you would like to be not-just-friends with Credence, are you and Newt really friends?, does it go deeper?, i guess we'll never know, its pretty open ended relationship wise, just kidding, mwahahahahaaaaa, thats fine too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2016-12-05
Packaged: 2018-09-06 07:25:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8740303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/blondeofthecentury
Summary: reader used to be best friends with credence and is a little fragile when his birthday comes up.





	

You and Newt are down in the case doing some routine care for the magical creatures that resided inside it. Newt observes you as you go around and feeding and conversing with each creature and notices something is off. It isn't anything major really, but he notices it. He notices you don't smile so bright today. As if there was something to be sad about. You look almost fragile as you giggle when the mooncalves hop up to eat their hovering food, as though it was all you could do to keep yourself pulled together. He watches as you move onto the ocomies and care for them as well. The same thing happens. You aren't interacting with them the way you usually do. Newt notices and so do the creatures. After a minute or two of debating with himself, Newt decides to inquire about your apparent mood.

"Are you alright, (Y/N)?" he asks from where he was at his little table, looking back over his shoulder at you .

You glance up at him with a smile, "Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?"

There's that empty smile again. Still bright, but not quite reaching your eyes that held that broken look you always try to hide and that he's all too familiar with by now.

Newt shrugs and turns his head back to his work, "Dunno. You just don't seem yourself today."

You return your attention to Dougal the demiguise, who had climbed onto your shoulder and was playing with your hair. "I'm fine."

He notices your voice crack and walks over to you, taking Dougal off your shoulder and placing him on his own, "If you're alright, why are you getting upset?"

"I-I'm not."

Picket peeks around the edge of the pocket of Newt's vest and chitters a bit.

"I agree." Newt says to the bowtruckle in a soft voice. "(Y/N), if you're upset you don't need to hide it. I'm not like the others."

You know what he meant by 'others'. He meant the others in your life that had high-tailed it as soon as you felt you had gotten to the point in a relationship where you show them your feelings no matter what they were. The others who had finally heard what your life was like in the past told you to suck it up and move on and then promptly left. The others that left as soon as the going got tough. The others who had eventually stopped caring and left for one reason or another. The ones who eventually found out about your real worth and decided it wasn't actually worth much. The ones who did everything they could to tear you down taking advantage of your innocent and naive nature to achieve their own ends while you had no idea what they were doing to you or what you were doing for them and to others.

You feel tears prick your eyes, "I know. I'm fine, honest."

He wipes away a tear that had fallen without your notice, "Then why are you crying?"

You finally break, turning to him and burying your face in his chest as you start to sob. "I don't know!"

Newt carefully puts Dougal down and wraps his arms tightly around you, having had to do this on one or two other occasions. He lets you cry into him for as long as you need to, pulling out a handkerchief for you to wipe your nose with and then cleaning it with a quick spell so you could use it again when you need to. You cry for a good long while before you pull away and wipe your face and nose again, taking in a shuddering breath.

"What's the matter?" Newt asks gently.

"I miss him." you say with a simple shrug, though the situation was anything but simple. "It's his birthday tomorrow and I miss him."

"Oh," Newt suddenly realizes why your upset. "Credence."

You nod and sniff, "Credence."

You used to live on the streets before one of Newt's friends found you looking for food in a dumpster and brought her back to her apartment to help you out. At first you were wary, but eventually they all gained your trust and you had stayed with Newt in his case when he went to go back to England.

You had found Credence crying in an alley one night and went to see if you could help him. You had tried your best to comfort him, even though he had pushed you away multiple times and told you to leave him alone, but you were persistent until his mother called for him to come back inside. He had found you and given you a bowl of soup in thanks a few days later when he found you. That sparked a very firm friendship between the two of you. He had been your best friend, one of the only people who didn't treat you like a freak when strange things happened around you. One strange thing actually helped him. The first time he had shown you his hands when you found him crying again you felt multiple emotions all at the same time. You felt immense hatred for the woman that did this to him and you felt such love and compassion for the strange, broken boy in front of you. You had taken one hand in both of yours and brought it to your lips the way you had seen many parents do with their children when they had injured themselves, and kissed it with an "all better now" and did the same to the other hand. Credence had hissed at the stinging sensation that the contact had brought to his injuries and then stared in wonder as they healed themselves.

"(Y/N), how did you do that?" he had asked.

You merely shook your head, "I don't know."

"Thank you." he tried for a smile.

You offered one in return, his smile brightening your whole day, "Your'e welcome."

You had tried to repeat what had happened that day whenever he showed you his hands, but you only could when you weren't concentrating on it. You had comforted that boy more times than you could count and each time your love for him only grew. He was your best friend for all intents and purposes and you were practically family to him. the only proper one he had ever had, even if it wasn't exactly a proper family. He would try to give you things that you needed when he could. Food was the gift he gave most often. The occasional piece of clothing was sometimes gifted when Chastity's became too small or thread bare for his mother's taste. He would turn his back while you would change into the new dress and smile softly when he saw your grin and heard your laughter as you would spin in it.

"You look beautiful." he would say every time.

"I look like a homeless girl who stole a dress." you would always reply, giving him a hug, "Thank you, Credence."

He would hug you back, resting his cheek on the top of your head, "You're welcome."

Newt sits you on the steps leading into the little shack that lead from the real world down into the case, dropping his coat over your shoulders before going inside. You smile faintly at the memories as tears slip silently from your eyes.

"He wasn't a bad person." you state. "He was just in so much pain, he didn't know what to do with it."

"I know." Newt says behind you.

"He had such a kind heart once you got to know him." You let a short pause slide in between your sentences before continuing, "I think you would have liked him."

"I already do from the stories you keep telling me about him."

You look back at him with a sheepish smile, "Sorry."

"It's alright." Newt reassures. "I like hearing them."

"Did I tell you about the first gift he ever gave me?" You ask, playing with a small bracelet that was on your wrist.

It wasn't much, just a small little thing, no bigger than your pinkie finger, but it was your most prized possession. It was made of small little strips of leather that had been woven together beautifully, considering the one who made it. You didn't know where he'd gotten the pieces, but you never asked. You simply thanked him for it and attempted to tie it around your wrist yourself, making him laugh at you and offer to help. You had stubbornly refused on the account that you were "a big girl and could do it yourself." This of course only made his chuckles become a little louder and he let you try to tie it until you had huffed and wordlessly held out your wrist. You saw his smile as he tied it for you and had never taken it off. You knew you never would.

Newt hands you a mug of peppermint tea, your favorite of the different flavors he had exposed you to so far. "There you go."

You offer a smile, "Thanks."

"So what was the first gift he ever gave you?" he asks.

You hold out your wrist for him to see the time-worn piece of jewelry. "This."

Newt looks at it from where he's sitting beside you with a tea mug of his own. He doesn't say anything, but he doesn't have to for you to know he likes it.

"He gave this to me for my birthday a couple years ago. I'd told him the day I was born and he gave me this wrapped in a piece of old newspaper. I didn't even know what day it was." You say.

He listens to you retell the tale he had heard already, just without the bit of what the present was.

You tell him the bit about how you stubbornly refused to let Credence help you put the bracelet on and then finally gave in, making Newt smile.

"You really miss him, don't you?" Newt asks.

You nod, "Every day that ends in 'y'."

He chuckles, making you smile, which he considers a small victory in itself.

"If I could have saved him I would have." He promises.

"I know." You tell him, "But there wasn't anything you could have done. The Madame President had already given the order. I just wish she would have given him a chance."

"As do I."

You pull Newt's coat closer around your shoulders and take a long drought out of the tea mug, enjoying the warmth that filled your insides as it went down your throat and into your stomach. You lean your head against Newt's shoulder and give out a long sigh with a small sniff.

XXX

A few months later Newt hands you a little red box with silver ribbon tied in a bow on the top. You take it, a little confused, and open it, giving a small smile when you see what's laying inside of it.

"It's beautiful." You say.

Newt offers a sheepish smile, "Thanks. You want help putting it on?"

You shake your head with a bigger smile, "I'm a big girl. I can do it myself."

You pick up the bracelet and try to tie it around the same wrist Credence's rests, but fail to successfully tie it. It really was beautiful. It was (F/C) strands of string woven together in a way you had only seen Newt do it. Sort of a fishtail but with a Celtic look to it, too. You knew he had made it by hand and you knew that once it was on your wrist, like Credence's, it would never come off.

You let out a frustrated sound and wordlessly hold out your wrist for Newt to tie the bracelet. He chuckles and ties it before keeping hold of your wrist in a gentle hand.

"Happy birthday, (Y/N)."


End file.
